My Salvation
by Jusrecht
Summary: He is a mouse, trapped in his own complicated mind games and reaping what he sowed. He wants revenge. And he wants Suzaku. [LuluZaku]


**My Salvation**

**Author: Jusrecht**

**Pairings:** LuluZaku and hints of SuzaEuphie, LuluShirley, and LuluCC

**Warnings:** SPOILERS like woah. There are scenes you may not be able to understand unless you've watched the anime up to episode 23 and the Picture Book series. I've also read the manga, both Lelouch and Suzaku's side, so there may be some things which come from there too.

**Disclaimer:** All characters are property of Sunrise. All translated dialogues from the anime are courtesy of **gg**. I'm the girl who plays with those characters and twists those dialogues, so no, me owns nothing.

**Summary:** He is a mouse, trapped in his own complicated mind games and reaping what he sowed. He wants revenge. And he wants Suzaku. (LuluZaku)

**A/N:** Code Geass is one of the best series I've ever watched and read. So very painful that I think it's safe to say that I love and hate it with the same degree of passion. That's also why this story exists. Written from Lelouch's second POV (not sure why I like it so much), this fic will focus on the relationship between Lelouch and Suzaku, but it's more like a collection of drabbles than a full story. Some real action, however, will take some time to develop so please be patient with me.

I haven't watched episode 24-25, so what I write here are based on the first until twenty-third. Let's just say that I read a little too deeply between the lines, but those hints are there for some reasons, right? Anyway, enjoy.

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**One: Many Degrees of Hell**

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Hating is a way of life.

In fact, hating is a powerful way of life. It keeps you alive, breathing, even if each breath feels like inhaling a lungful of nails and needles. Painful, but pain forces you to remain awake, a constant reminder of a goal you have to achieve no matter what. It is exactly what you need. Until your father crumbles to his knees, nothing will make you stop finding means to bring him down along with his gigantic pride and the kingdom he has swollen with his twisted ideals.

And then suddenly you have it, conveniently offered by this strange girl who stumbled upon your path by pure chance. Suddenly, those far-fetched plans bred between dark tapestries of the night slide closer within your reach. This new power of yours simplifies things and you know that there is nothing that can stop you anymore, not when the hate list you have reserved only for your father has gained another name. Your mother and Nunnally have always been at the top, but now you can see it, written just a little below them, next to the number two with ink as black as your fury. His name.

That is until you see him again.

You still remember your first meeting with him. Kururugi Suzaku – the only son of Japan's Prime Minister at that time. Deep in your memory lingers a boy with fierce green eyes, an angry boy whose room – a small kingdom of his own – was snatched away from him by some strangers he owed nothing to. It wasn't surprising that his welcome greeting was unfriendly, almost hostile. A fight nearly ensued, but his juvenile aggressiveness quickly collapsed into nervous guilt and plain concern once he had seen Nunnally.

A gentle but awkward soul – you had summed him up that night, but experience taught you never to abandon the worst scenario completely.

Another thing you remember clearly about Suzaku is his tendency to complicate things for you, deliberately or not. You did not plan to like Japan, seeing that this was the country you had been cast off to as a mere hostage by your father without a second thought. You did not plan to like the Prime Minister, whose disposition was as firm as your father's and yet possessed something else which told you that this was how a father should be. But most of all you did not plan to like his son.

You hated things that didn't go according to your plan. You still do now.

Since the moment your escort guard told you about this boy of your age in the Prime Minister's household, you had pictured a spoiled kid with no brother or sister to compete for his father's attention. Being one of the youngest in the Britannian Royal Family, you knew only too well about sibling rivalries and couldn't help but to feel a slight tinge of contempt at this boy. Your opinion did not improve much when you had met him, a glowering shadow looking down at you and your sister, hints of resentment lining his eyes and roughing his voice.

If it wasn't for Nunnally, there might never be any friendship between you and him. Liking Kururugi Suzaku was surprisingly easy after awkwardness and pretenses had been peeled away. That was, alas, where your problem began.

Your meetings with him have always been brief and painful. The first chance, six tumultuous months of your life which were also harbouring many of your happiest memories, was the longest. But like a broken spell in a midsummer's night dream, it was ended brutally with heavy, resounding cries from artilleries and guns. You remember terrified screams, lifeless bodies, smoking ruins, and the painful throb of your own heart as Nunnally sobbed quietly on your back. The word Britannia echoed – roared – inside your head like angry waves hitting the stormy shore that was your raw senses.

A small part of you died that day, along with Japan. It fell to the scorched ground, dead, like many tiny droplets of Suzaku's tears had as three small children trudged their way amidst this gruesome piece of destruction.

And then you met the Ashford and he disappeared from the pages of your life. Often you would think about him and wonder if he was writing his own story, brighter, happier, prettier than yours. You felt like you have died, that you only existed to whisper comforting words in Nunnally's ears. Not only once or twice you had felt relieved that at least she couldn't see this dead look in your eyes. Nothingness. Nothing.

Everything changed on the day you met him again.

This second meeting, in contrast to the first, only lasted no more than six minutes. You, who have always shunned the idea of fate, consider this to be a remarkable coincidence that you met him again and C.C. on the same day. It was the day that changed your life forever. It was the day you first saw someone you loved being killed right in front of your eyes. It was the day you first killed someone. It was the day you received this power – to order, to want, to have it obeyed, to have it granted.

To kill.

Now he was dead. Now you had this power. Now you could hate Britannia with all of your being and do something for that burning hatred.

But of course nothing is ever that smooth. When the fact of him being captured – and apparently alive – made it to the evening news, you knew that he had, once again, complicated life for you. Of course you were glad that he had not died that day in Shinjuku, but you almost, _almost_ wished that he…

The third time you meet him – now, at this very moment – he is the one who walks away from you.

There is something ironic in this. You may have laughed if you are not so devastatingly frustrated by this sight of him walking toward what for all you know can be – will be – his death. You want to scream, want to shout and tell him that this is you, that this is Lelouch his old friend who only wants to see him safe, but the dislike – the _condemnation_ – in his eyes stops you from doing anything.

Suzaku doesn't like you. He doesn't like Zero and the realization settles in the pit of your stomach like a heavy lump of ice. You stand there in the ruined theatre long after his shadow has blended into the bitter night, staring at the lonely entrance and feeling far angrier than ever. For a grand schemer you have always believed yourself to be, you have made the biggest blunder you can ever make.

This possibility, his refusing your offer and walking away from you straight to his death, has never crossed your mind. You were already so used to see everything unfolding the way you want them to that you let this little detail slip off your mind. You were too busy being happy, believing that once more you would have the most important people in your life close to you.

You have made a mistake.

The world fades into a blur, noises faintly humming in the background like a second-rate song you have always ignored. You don't remember changing your clothes or going back to the academy. The only thing you are aware of is that you are currently sitting on the base of the stairs leading up to the front door, head hurting from too many pointless schemes battling in your mind. They are eliminating each other with their own uselessness and you know that you are running out of options on the menu. Britannia has Suzaku in its ruthless clutch and this time, the towering magnitude of a military prison stands between you and him. Neither Lelouch nor Zero can do anything at this point, unless… unless of course…

You stand up and go to look for your sister with a vortex of questions rumbling inside your head. Will your name, will 'Lelouch vi Britannia' carry enough influence to command a trade? Will your father even consider the fact that you're alive? Will you let your thirst for revenge be quenched with this absurd scenario which bears no certainty to succeed in the first place? Will you sacrifice Nunnally only to save Suzaku? Or will you close your eyes and pretend that you haven't just let him die?

Will you?

But the door slides open and a pair of emotionless golden eyes find you, nailing your feet to the floor with their complete indifference.

"Welcome home, Lelouch."

_End Part One_

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**Notes:** I hope it isn't too confusing. Thank you for reading and please comment.


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